Chapter Five

Adrien

Three months later

After a challenging three-month process to finalize the divorce, hindered by my father's connection with the judge, who made it difficult for me to win despite Rosalie's absence, I found solace in the fact that she had kept her promise not to spend another month in my house. Upon my return, Serena informed me that Rosalie had packed her bags and left the morning after our argument.

Surprisingly, she left behind all the items I had gotten for her over the years, taking only the clothes she brought into my home. It felt as if she had never been there, fulfilling my desire of wanting to be free. Now, with the freedom to be with Yvette, I was undeterred by my father's threat to cut me off financially, as I prepared for our pre-honeymoon trip to Thailand with a bouquet of roses, a duffel bag, and a ring box from Stellar Stones, Yvette's favorite jewelry store, in hand.

Despite my nerves, fueled by Yvette's recent unusual behavior, I was determined to move forward and wondered if she had grown tired of waiting for me to take the next step. Placing my bag and the bouquet on the sofa, I embarked on a quest to find Yvette, eager to surprise her with both my presence and the thrilling news I knew would bring her joy. 

Progressing down the hallway towards the bedrooms, I delighted in the sound of laughter emanating from Yvette's room, assuming her positive mood until I recognized the unmistakable voice of a man professing his love to her.

Despite the inclination to believe she was merely engrossed in a TV soap opera, dismissing the thought of a male companion in her bed, I hesitated to open the door. Dispelling the unwelcome fear that Yvette might be unfaithful, I finally opened the door, only to be confronted by the distressing sight of her engaged in intimate activities with my younger brother Brandon on the same bed we had shared just a week ago.

Stunned in place, I observed them part ways, both scrambling to cover up as if my intrusion hadn't already revealed their actions. My hand dropped weakly from the door handle as I struggled to comprehend the unfolding scene. Brandon, now dressed in his pants, attempted to communicate with me, but his words were drowned out by the blood rushing in my ears.

In that moment, I realized karma had delivered a harsh blow, forcing me to taste the bitter medicine of my own actions. Despite the heartbreak, a bitter irony lingered, and I wondered, with the functioning part of my brain amid the betrayal, if this was akin to the pain Rosalie endured during the two years of my cruel treatment.

Choosing to feign ignorance about the unfolding situation, I forcefully closed the door behind me, directing my attention to Yvette and intentionally sidelining my brother temporarily, aware that his explanation might push me to act irrationally. 

"Please, enlighten me on what's transpiring here," I inquired. "Why are you in bed with my brother?"

As her expression shifted from terror to smugness, she calmly considered her response. Though I knew her revelation would shatter me, my determination to uncover the reasons behind her betrayal remained steadfast. 

"It should be glaringly obvious, right? Brandon and I are lovers. We're in love," She disclosed. "Couples in love engage intimately, don't they?"

Despite the undeniable truth before me, I refused to accept her callousness. "You're in love with me," I asserted.

"I was in love with you, Adrien, but not anymore. I couldn't wait for you to rid yourself of that insignificant piece of trash you call your wife. I have my own life to live," She retorted.

"It's finally done. We can get married now as I promised you," I insisted.

"It's two years too late, Adrien Vasanten," She shook her head. "I don't want to be with you anymore. It's Brandon I love now."

Unwilling to let him become the father of my child, I protested, "Well, I can't let him be the father of my child. You can..."

"About that..." She interrupted, tracing her bottom lip with her index finger before sighing deeply. "The baby's not yours."

Her revelation pulled the rug from under me. Disbelieving, I exclaimed, "What are you talking about? How's the baby not mine? We went to the hospital together... You told me it was mine!"

"I'm sorry, but it was all a plan to trap you," She admitted with a nonchalant half shrug. "I'd marry you, use you, and divorce you after I get what I want."

With my back turned to her, hands firmly in my pockets to restrain the urge to unleash destruction, I couldn't believe that the culmination of five years with her was heartbreaking betrayal. Yet, who said I couldn't reciprocate?

"Fine," I turned to face her. "I'm genuinely happy for you, Yvette. Thanks for everything, but it's time for you to leave."

"Excuse me?" Confusion clouded her expression. "This is my penthouse."

"Is it? It's not in your name yet, remember? I intended to gift it to you for our wedding, but since we're never getting married and this relationship is over, I see no reason for you to stay. Go live with your lover. You have six hours to pack. I'll inform the doorman that you're not allowed in this building anymore."

"I think you're forgetting that I'm also a co-owner of this building," Brandon interjected, halting my departure.

"And you're forgetting that you signed your shares over to me after losing that poker game. Six hours, or you'll be ejected without your bags, Yvette." With that parting remark, I closed the door behind me.

~~~~~~

"Are you alright, Sir?" Serena inquired upon finding me drowning my sorrows in alcohol.

"Karma is a bitch, you know," I replied. "She let me have a taste of my own medicine today, and it happened in the worst way possible."

"Mind if I ask what you mean, sir?"

"Now, I know exactly how Rosalie must have felt when I treated her unfairly," I muttered to myself. "I ruined my life with my very own hands," I said, burying my face in my hands.

"I didn't want to tell you this, sir, but now that you mentioned it... I think I will," Serena began.

"What?" I sighed.

"Your ex-wife, Ms. Rosalie, was sick the evening you asked her for a divorce, but she prepared dinner for you despite how ill she was. She was very hopeful that seeing your favorite dishes prepared would make you happy."

"I'm a stupid man, Serena. Let's leave it at that. I want to be alone." I waved her away.

"Goodnight, sir," She said as she walked away.

Adding to my misery, my cell phone rang with an incoming call from Norman, my personal assistant. It was late for work-related calls, but Norman rarely called me at this hour with his personal number, so I figured it must be urgent and answered the call.

"What do you have for me, Norman?"

"I'm calling regarding the money you told me to send to your ex-wife a few months ago, sir," Norman responded. "One hundred and thirty thousand dollars. You wanted to know what she used it for."

"Yeah?"

"She used it to pay for her mother's hospital bills, sir. Apparently, the reason why she agreed to the marriage was because her mother had been diagnosed with type 2 diabetes, which progressed to pancreatic cancer. Her father refused to take responsibility for his ex-wife's illness despite promising to pay her mother's hospital bills if she married you."

"I need you to do something for me, Norman," I said, realizing the depth of trouble I was in, having wrongly blamed Rosalie for every misfortune in my life when she was innocent. I, not her, was the greedy one, and now, it was too late to make amends.

"Anything, sir," Norman responded.

"Do you have her phone number?" The extent of my cruelty towards Rosalie became painfully apparent as I acknowledged that, after two years of marriage, I didn't even know the simplest thing about her—her phone number.

After ten unsuccessful attempts to reach her, receiving the same automated response that Rosalie's phone number was no longer in service, I conceded. I texted Norman, instructing him to hire a private investigator to locate Rosalie. Six months of fruitless searching later, I realized she didn't want to be found and decided to put an end to it.